


The Crown

by HobbitWrangler



Series: The Crown [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: All of the planets in the star wars galaxy are now countries on one planet, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Dancing, F/M, Fluff, Kylo Ren Angst, Modern Royalty, Non-Graphic Violence, Romance, Smut, at least the main ones are, hux is horrible, kylo is a bit dumb, no space travel, phasma is great as always
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 19:26:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9781742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HobbitWrangler/pseuds/HobbitWrangler
Summary: Kylo Ren, heir to the Alderaanian throne, finally returns home after hiding for eight months in the highlands with Armitage Hux. While his twin daughters are happy to see their father again, Kylo's wife doesn't know how to feel. Life as consort to the third most powerful member of the Skywalker household is no easy feat, and she isn't sure how she can come to terms with Kylo leaving her for so long, nor how to accept him back into her bed.**Idea based loosely off the Netflix drama "The Crown"





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, so this story came about after I watched Netlix's "The Crown" and fell in love with Matt Smith as Philip. This started out as just a 2,000 word little thing and became...this instead. So, enjoy and let me know what you think in the comments down below. It wasn't beta'd so any mistakes are my fault and sorry. Also, Happy Valentines Day ;) !
> 
> Thanks for reading!

“You received my letters?” Kylo asked, folding his hands in his lap.

“ _Mmm_.” Maeve hummed. “Padme and Anne keep theirs in a box beneath their bed. It’s cute, if not a bit sad.”

At the mention of their daughters, Kylo finally turned and looked over at his wife Maeve. Her eyes, blue as a sky in winter, stared straight ahead at the back of the passenger seat. Her normally rounded nose scrunched to a nub, showcasing the freckles on her pale forehead, as she tapped her left heel against the carpet of the car. From the way Maeve’s cheeks twitched every time he spoke, Kylo assumed she was about to take the small knife he knew she hid in the inside pocket of her purse and stab him through the heart. Their ride so far filled with a silence that could have cut through the diamonds on Queen Leia’s Crown.

Back at the train station, Maeve barely looked at Kylo when he’d embraced her. The cameras flashing and devouring each second of their public reunion. The kiss she’d pressed to his cheek stung as if he’d been pricked by a rose, and yet what surprised him most was that Maeve was still here. During the long train ride from the highlands, he’d half reconciled with the fact that he’d come home to the Palace to find his wife and children gone.

He coughed before speaking again, hoping she’d turn and look at him-- but she didn’t. “They’ve taken to sleeping in the same bed again?”

“They’re four, Kylo-- and twins-- they don’t like to be apart.”

“Right,” he huffed. “And you? Did you get my letters?” His voice was softer now, pleading for her to turn and look at him. To show him some glimpse of the affection she’d held for him before his trip.

“It was a cold winter.” Maeve turned her head. Her eyes piercing his with such animosity Kylo felt a shiver run down his spine. “The fire needed kindling.”

“Mae--”

“We’ll not speak of this in the car.”

Kylo reached for Maeve, but she swatted his hand down. Leia liked to rat on Kylo’s temper, but he’d never met someone as fierce as Maeve. She was the warmest woman he’d ever know, with perpetually red cheeks, but as soon as she was crossed Maeve became colder than Hoth in midwinter.

She threw Kylo one last glare, before turning to the window with a smile that scrunched her chubby cheeks. The people, Kylo’s mother’s subjects, were lined up on either side of the street. Their arms waving wildly as the black car Kylo and Maeve sat in drove down the long lane towards the Palace.

It’d been months since anyone had seen Kylo and Maeve together. The newspapers deemed the marriage dissolved, and that the crowned prince was missing in the highlands. Though both were a bit right, they didn’t have all the facts. But neither Maeve.

“I hope you have your story straight,” Maeve hissed, below her breath so the driver couldn’t overhear her. “I’ll go with whatever you’ve come up with, but it better be good, Kylo.”

“Hunting accident. I was too unwell to travel before now.”

Maeve nodded, her bun bouncing back and forth like a bunny’s tail. “Good enough. That’ll explain why the girls and I came back. Didn’t want them stuck in the mountains for the winter.”

Kylo grunted his response. He could tell by the way Maeve refused to look at him that she was beyond any point of reasoning. She’d never been this closed off before. Even through all the galas, and forced gatherings during their courtship she’d never been this cold-- not to him.

“Are you--”

Maeve stopped herself, her hands bunched in her dark green dress. Kylo watched her chest rise and fall before she spoke again. His breath held as he waited for her to speak. “Are you back... for good?”

“I am.”

“The girls will be happy you’re home. Though... it would have been nice for you to have called, so they could hear your voice. But, it’s too late now.” Maeve opened her mouth to say something else, but closed her lips after a moment of deliberation. After another breath she continued, doing well in pretending her heart wasn't thrumming in her chest. “Has Phasma come back with you? I didn’t see her at the station.”

Kylo settled into the seat, refolding his hands in his lap to keep from reaching for his wife. “She’s collecting the rest of my things. The other car will bring her to the Palace... Why do you ask?”

“I missed her,” Maeve jeered. “Though I cannot say the same for you.”

“I see.”

Maeve made another small glance at Kylo and he held her gaze for as long as she permitted. His dark brown eyes imploring with her silently as the car pulled into the first set of gates. The gold insignia of the Skywalker house tearing apart as the gate opened for them. The red flag, adorned with the emerald grapes the Organa’s had been known for, billowed in the light breeze above the palace, signifying that the Queen was home.

The Palace glimmered in the afternoon sunshine, a rarity for this part of the country, and the car shook as it continued onto the cobbled drive into the center of the palace, passing beneath a large arch that connected the front of the house, where the royal offices faced out at the busy street, and moved into the pebbled courtyard. Faces peered down at them from each of the hundred or so windows on either side of the Palace. Even the guards craning their necks to catch a glimpse of the young couple.

On either side of the rectangular, beige and gold palace were public gardens and parks. The long drive that lead to the front entrance the only public road near the building. In the back, where the workers normally entered, there was another drive, but it was rarely used by the Royal family-- not unless they were trying to make a sneaky exit.

The car rolled to a stop at the side entrance. Leia and Han stood just inside the doorway. Leia dressed in her formal whites, with the blue slash her mother used to wear draped across her upper body. Han wearing a simple dark grey suit, with a blue tie. Leia had an audience with Parliament later, and she liked to make them squirm. Everyone squirmed around over-dressed royalty.

Padme and Anne hid behind their grandmother, peeking out from behind the many layers of the white dress as Maeve and Kylo exited the car. Their tiny faces alight in barely contained excitement. The kind that had them bouncing in one spot.

Kylo tried to take Maeve’s hand, but she clasped her fingers together before he could even brush his hand against her arm. Maeve dropped into a short curtsy before Leia, muttering a quick “Ma’am,” before Kylo bowed, and spoke in solemn tone as he addressed the Queen.

“ _Mother_.”

“It’s good to see you, Ben. Been awhile, hasn’t it? Did you enjoy your time in the mountains?” Leia chided.

“It was cold.”

“I bet you’re happy to be home.”

Kylo glanced at Maeve. “Yes.”

Leia put her gloved hand on her son’s shoulders and pulled him into the house, no one peeved by the fact that Han and Kylo hadn’t even looked at each other. The two consorts to the crown trailed behind Mother and Son. Han’s arm around Maeve’s shoulder. Royalty always took the precedent in entering the household.

“ _Papa_!” The twins shouted in unison.

The atmosphere of the room lifted as both Anne and Padme threw their chubby little arms around their father’s legs, latching onto him like barnacles to a dock, until he finally squatted and gently pulled them from his legs before squashing them against his wide chest. Their giggles bright and crisp, like bubbles in a fresh glass of cider.

The twins were identical in appearance in everything besides their eyes. Anne had her mother’s blue eyes, while Padme had her father’s brown. They both had blonde hair, coiled into braids that ran down their backs, but Maeve knew they would soon have dark hair-- like Kylo’s-- as it had already darkened at least two shades in the three years since their birth.

“Did you bring us presents?” Anne asked.

Kylo turned to Maeve, confusion furrowing his dark eyebrows. She merely shrugged her shoulders, hanging him out to dry.

“Presents?”

“From your trips!” Anne clarified, tugging on her father’s coat sleeve. “Presents from your trips! Momma said you went on _so many_ trips for Grandma Leia and that you wouldn’t be home for a long time, but you’d be home soon and with presents--”

“Only if we were good, and we were good-- right momma?” Padme interjected.

Maeve nodded her head, not trusting her voice.

“I… I don’t have any presents,” Kylo admitted.

“ _O-oh_ ,” Anne stuttered.

Regret rolled over Kylo’s features. A look Maeve had only seen once. “I didn’t know…Perhaps--”

“That’s okay! Grandma Leia says we have too many toys-- right grandma?” When Leia nodded Padme continued speaking, gesturing wildly with her hands as she did. “We have soo many new toys. Grandpa, momma’s Papa, built us new toys! Do you want to see them? Will you play?” Padme asked. Her dark brown eyes implored Kylo--the same tactic he used on Maeve.

“Yes, _please_ , Papa! It would be _so_ fun!” Anne begged.

All three heads turned towards Maeve, who hovered in the doorway, looking at anything but her family. She’d meant to embarrass Kylo about not bringing the girls anything-- make the girls only slightly disappointed to see him-- the usual jealousy rearing its head as it always did whenever the girls picked him over her.

“Momma?”

At the mention of her name, Maeve looked down at her daughters and a forced smile spread her thin, pink lips. It hurt more to see them together again than it had during those eight months apart, but she couldn’t stand to see her daughters upset. The jealousy settled into something more familiar-- maternal even.

As she nodded her head, the twins squealed again and pulled Kylo further into the Palace. Their laughter could be heard throughout the grand foyer, and each of the normally stoic guards couldn’t help but crack a smile as the little Princesses dragged their rugged father from room to room.

The doors slammed shut behind Maeve and she flinched. They were finally together again, but she still felt off kilter. One wrong move and she’d likely fall back into the sadness she’d grown too comfortable with in the last eight months.

Leia frowned at the pained look in Maeve’s eyes. “How are you holding up?” She asked as she took Maeve’s arm, and nearly dragged her daughter-in-law to her family.

“Better than an hour ago.”

“Was the train on time?”

Maeve threw an annoyed glance at her mother-in-law and Leia laughed. “Are they ever on time?”

“No,” Han grunted. “Especially not when they’re carrying our son.”

“Who could barely look at us by the way,” Leia mentioned.

“He’s always been distant...” Maeve said as they passed through a set of doors.

“This feels different. Wrong.” Han grumbled.

“He’s _our son_ , Han. We have to support him.”

Han brushed his hand through his graying hair. “He’s abandoning his family-- why would we support such an ass--”

“ _Language_.” Leia barked.

They stepped out of the grand foyer and into the adjoining hallway. The girls’ laughter exploded from a room three doors down. Maeve could even hear the quiet chuckles from Kylo. Her heart soared. It’d been so long. The Palace even seemed to agree with the change, the normally desolate hallways bursting with life at the Prince’s return.

Leia put a hand on Maeve’s shoulder. “Should I talk with him about it?”

Maeve shook her head. “No. This is between us. I’ll handle it.” She threw a look at Han. They always meant well, or at least Maeve assumed they did, but Kylo would never listen to his parents. Especially not about this. “ _The way I want to_. There’s no need to fuss.”

“We don’t want to lose you, Maeve. You’ve lost…”

Maeve interrupted, fearful Kylo could now hear. “I know.”

“These periods come and go,” Han mentioned. “He’s done this sort of thing before. They tend to sort themselves out.”

“Yes,” Leia hummed. “That they do.”

Leia let go of Maeve at the entrance to the door. She peeked her head inside, said goodbye to the girls and let Han lead her away; giving the young family time to reacquaint themselves. Kylo missed so much in the time he was away, and Leia did not want to pull him from Maeve and the girls just yet. Not with Maeve looking as sickly as she did. Her normally sparkling eyes devoid of any mirth or laughter.

“Momma... will you play too?” Anne begged. “We’re playing train!”

The two girls had already pulled out all of the toys the maids put away last night, and the train set Maeve’s father made for the girls for their last birthday looked as if there had been an explosion in the middle, with train cars and wooden passengers strewn across the tracks-- and onto the floor. Kylo lounged on the far-too-old-and-possibly-antique spiral patterned rug that took up most of the room. His long legs spread, Padme sitting between them, with Anne on his right.

The aforementioned train table, that was more than big enough to house all the parts of the train set, stood in front of them, situated between them and the door. A single rocking chair in the corner of the room, with a quilt that Maeve’s mother made for their wedding lying on the seat. The rest of the medium sized office-turned-playroom furnished with a dollhouse and two red trunks filled with toys.

“Come on, Maeve,” Kylo implored. “You can be the conductor.”

He patted the spot next to him and she gave in. Though she sat on the other side of Anne, as far from Kylo as possible. His smile faltered as she did so.

Maeve put out her hand, and threw an expectant look at Kylo. “The conductor, please.”

“Whatever you need Mae, you can have it. All you need to do is ask.”

Kylo’s hand lingered on Maeve’s as he dropped the fat wooden conductor into Maeve’s small palm. His fingers deliberately dragging over the sensitive skin. Maeve would have hit him, but she didn’t like being violent around the girls. Instead she pulled Anne into her lap and let the little girl place the conductor back into the slot in the train.

“What do you say to that, Annie?” She cooed. “What do you wish for most? Papa is offering.”

Anne mulled it over by placing the train car against her ear and letting it “speak” to her. She had a penchant for talking to her toys, though no one-- not even Padme-- could understand her.

“Well?” Maeve asked, gently poking her fingers into Anne’s sides. Her smile turning real as Anne squealed and tried to squirm out of her mother’s grasp. “And what about you, Padme? What do you want most in the whole world?”

“A CAT!” Padme screamed.

“ _PADME_ ,” Kylo barked. His tone sterner than he’d hoped, and his left eye twitched as Padme flinched. “N-no screaming.”

“Sorry, Papa.”

Kylo sighed, and awkwardly patted Padme’s head. He’d never been good at scolding the girls. As a child, his tutors and nannies had always gone for the hands-on approach to punishment. He made the choice not to do the same to his children, but there was still a part of him that thought violence was the only way to teach the girls a lesson.

His fingers twitched as Padme fidgeted beneath his stern gaze. Hers eyes growing bigger with each passing second. The tear ducts preparing to drop their watery bombs.

“The Palace echoes,”Kylo grunted. “And the guards will think you...you are in trouble.”

“I didn't _mean to_ …” she whined. “I just wan-na kitty.”

“It’s okay, Padme. Just remember to use your inside voice,” Maeve said.

Her eyes flickered to Kylo’s, a quick sideways glance, one filled with warning. It would take him time to remember what being a parents was like, and how volatile the girl’s emotions were. Yelling, or barking at them would do no good. They’d only come to resent him later in life. They were too much like their mother in that respect.

After realizing she was not in real trouble, a smile returned to Padme’s face and she continued to play with the trainset. She was in charge of the caboose, while Anne controlled the lead locomotive, a blue car with eyes glued on the front to resemble the popular character from a set of books Maeve read to the girls at night.  

“Anne?” Kylo asked. He took Anne’s small, fragile hand into his and stared down into her blue eyes. “What about you? Padme wants a cat, and you?”

“I want a cat _too_ ,” Anne whined.

“Two cats it is!” Maeve declared.

Kylo frowned at Maeve as she set Anne back on the ground and stood. The nanny walked in a second later, with Phasma directly behind her. Phasma with her short blonde hair, and dressed in a light grey three piece suit, towered over the frail, old nanny.

Nanny was older than dirt, and had been Kylo’s nanny when he was growing up. The one that didn’t physically harm him. Phasma had joined the royal guard around 10 years ago, at the age of 18. Her father was a General during Darth Vader’s reign, and so she’d enlisted as soon as she possibly could. Kylo enjoyed her company so much he moved her into Palace security, where soon after she’d became his personal guard.

“ _Pasma_!” Padme squealed, rushing up to the tall guard and showing her the train car she held in her hands. “Caboose!”

Phasma bowed before the two Princesses. “Hello, Princess Anne, and Princess Padme.”

“Papa is getting us kitties.”

Phasma’s perfectly manicured eyebrow lifted. “Is he really?”

“Yes! Yes! Two kitties!” Anne answered.

“Will Sir be doing that before or after dinner?”

Kylo cleared his throat and stood. “Tomorrow. We’ll pick them out tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow! Tomorrow! We’re getting kitties tomorrow!” Padme sang, weaving between her parent’s legs. “Papa did bring us presents, Momma! _He did_.”

“You must be good for Nanny, though, or no kitties. Yes, girls?” Maeve squatted down to stare her daughters in the eyes. One arm on Padme to keep her still for five seconds. When they didn’t answer she asked again. “Yes, Momma?”

Anne and Padme looked at each other, nodded, and then looked back at Maeve. They agreed in unison. “ _Yes, Momma._ ”

“Good.” Maeve smiled. “Now give Momma kisses and hugs, so she and Papa can go get ready-- Nanny will read you your story tonight, but tomorrow night Papa and I both will be home to do it!”

Anne and Padme rushed into Maeve’s outstretched arms. Each girl squeezing their mother for all they had, almost toppling her over with the amount of force the two wielded. Maeve closed her eyes as the girls pressed kisses to either cheek. They tended to miss, and press their lips into her eyelids, or her ears.

The two girls were often spiteful, and didn’t share well. But they hadn’t yet reached the age where they hated one another just for living. Maeve looked at them as if they were the purest form of love in the world, and hoped with all her heart it would be ready to hear one of them say they hated her. For now, she just pulled them closer and tried to absorb as much of their essence as possible.

“I love you,” Maeve said, pulling her girls back to look them in the eyes. “I’ll see you in the morning, my little bugs.”

Maeve pressed an extra kiss to the top of both Anne and Padme’s heads before standing up again, brushing off her dress as she did-- though there was nothing on it. She turned to Phasma as she walked to the door. “Shall we?”

Phasma followed Maeve out of the door as Kylo said his goodbyes to the girls. While Phasma stopped outside the door, no doubt waiting for Kylo, Maeve continued down the hall, back into the vaulted foyer, and up the stairs, not bothering to wait. He’d catch up when he did.

“You look well,” Phasma commented as she caught Maeve on the first level.

“As do you, Phasma. The mountains agree with you.”

“You would have liked it there.”

“In the mountains? Of course, it’s always nice to breathe fresh air, and the girls love the freedom of the Amidala House. Scheming with _Armitage Hux_? I don’t think I would have enjoyed that as much.”

“If it makes you feel better, they couldn’t stand to be around one another very long. It was more arguing than scheming.”

Maeve stopped. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You deserve to know the truth,” Phasma replied. “I serve both you and Master Kylo.”

“I see. Well, what’d they do for eight months-- stay in separate wings?”

“Yes.”

“Hah,” Maeve laughed. “ _Gah_ , what I wouldn’t give to snap Hux’s slimy little neck,” Maeve growled. She couldn’t count the number of dreams she’d had in which she’d done just that; though her favourites were the ones where she shoved Hux off a cliff. The surprise on his perpetually pursed lips was enough to calm her on the worst days.

Phasma ignored Maeve’s jab at her old friend Hux and continued walking. “Has Sir told you of our plans for tonight?”

“No. He hasn’t, but I’m sure you can fill me in.”

Phasma huffed as they continued up the stairs. She knew Maeve was trying to act tough, so neither Phasma nor Kylo would notice how upset she was, but what Maeve forgot was that they’d known her for a very long time; and she wasn’t very subtle.

Kylo still hadn’t reached them. Maeve could hear his boots stomping up the stairs, no doubt taking them two to three at a time. His familiar cadence forceful, and deliberate. He always walked as if one side of his body was heavier than the other. When the sound of his stomping got close enough Maeve asked him what the plans were.

“7 o’clock at the Club on Kenobi street.” He answered.

“Just us?”

Kylo pulled on Maeve’s dark green sleeve. She allowed herself to be stopped, and turned, but refused to look Kylo in his eyes. Choosing to stare at his black jacket instead. The climb had upturned the lapel and so she quickly flipped it while he tried to garner her gaze.

“Phasma will be with us, but that doesn’t mean we won’t have privacy--”

“Yes, and it’s best if we’re seen in public. That’ll quiet the rumors,” Maeve hummed.

Phases noticed the signs of an argument and as quietly as she could maneuvered her way back down the massive staircase. Maeve and kylo were volatile under normal circumstances, and she didn't want to find out how intense they would be now, after so much time apart.

“Mae--”

“I need a bath if we’re to leave at half six,” Maeve muttered. She slipped from Kylo’s grasp and continued up the stairs, stopping at the third level, and walked the twenty five steps to the entrance of their doors. “What are you going to wear tonight? I don’t want it to look like we’re trying to match.”

Kylo slid the door closed behind him and watched with a slack jaw as Maeve continued into the shared space between their two bedrooms, sidestepped the two couches, and moved into her room, letting her door close behind her. His body tensed at the sound of the lock turning, and clicking into place. The thoughts running through his head causing his blood pressure to rise until all he could see was red.

“MAEVE!”

Kylo slammed his closed fist against the wall near the door, the impact shuddering through his forearm in a pain that seemed to calm him. The sound that echoed in the shared room akin to lightning striking a barn.

The door opened, and Maeve’s head poked through. Her eyes bright, and inquisitive, as if Kylo wasn’t buzzing in one spot near the door, blood dripping from the cut on his fist. “Yes, _dear_?”

“Wh-what are you doing? Come back out here!”

“Taking a bath. I told you--”

Kylo’s hand, the one that wasn’t cut, brushed through his hair. “I thought we were going to t-talk…”

Maeve nodded. She pulled the door open a bit further and stepped through. One hand reaching up into her hair and letting loose her blonde, almost brown in some lights, locks from the bun. She sat down at the antique vanity in the long room that connected her bedroom to Kylo’s. Normally she never would have escaped to her room to avoid Kylo, but it was the only place that was _hers_. Her haven in all the madness that was the Skywalker life.

“If you want to talk, Kylo, talk. Then let me bathe in peace.”

“Is this how it’s going to be with us, Maeve? It’s been months--"

“Eight months.”

“Mae--”

“Eight months, Kylo. You left us for _eight_ months.”

“I didn’t--”

“YOU LEFT US FOR EIGHT MONTHS!” she snarled.

Maeve swiveled in the chair and Kylo shut his mouth. He’d never seen so much rage in her eyes before. Not even when the wet nurse had tried to take Anne and Padme from her arms after they were born.

“You told me two weeks, which turned to three, and then a month. We left so the girls didn’t keep looking at the door each time it opened hoping their father would miraculously step through. I’m glad you sent them letters because I had no idea what to tell them, Kylo.”

“I didn’t mean to be gone for so long.”

“What were you even doing? You never said. Not in one _fucking_ letter-- just blathered on about how you’d be home soon and not to worry about you. Phasma says you and Hux fought the whole time. Was it worth it?”

Kylo took a step towards Maeve, his eyes alight with hope. “So you did read my letters.”

“Of course I did, you arse! I was just as mystified as they were. I wanted to know why my husband had _abandoned_ us.”

Just as she finished talking Kylo reached Maeve. He fell to his knees before her, and placed his hands on her thick thighs.

“What do you want me to say? Tell me and I’ll say it.”

Maeve wiped frantically at the skin beneath her eyes, as if she could will away the tears. Her voice cracked as she fought for control from her emotions. “You _le-ft_ . No note, nothing. Just sent a letter a month later saying you were alive and with Armitage Hux _discussing matters_ … What could have been more important than your family, Kylo? Than _me_? I thought you hated Hux!”

“I didn’t think you would be this upset.” Kylo admitted, massaging circles with his thumbs into Maeve’s skin.

“Not this-- What? Not this upset? How was I supposed to be? Thrilled that my husband left me alone with our two daughters in the mountains?”

Kylo didn’t answer. His brows still furrowed. The confusion etched into his face. He never did understand that Maeve needed security and loyalty where he needed freedom.

“I needed you and you left, Kylo. Why? Why did you leave?” Maeve paused, her fingers tightened around the hairbrush she still held between them. “What did I do?”

“Nothing. You did nothing.”

Maeve slammed down the the hairbrush. “Then _why_?”

“Here, in this Palace, I am trapped,” Kylo spat. “Hux and his Uncle--”

Maeve shoved her free hand over Kylo’s mouth. “This isn’t about them. I know what they _stand for_ : The ruin of my home, my country. I swear if that’s what you were planning in the mountains I’ll leave and take the girls with me and never come back. You’ll never see _any of us again_ . Too many of my family members died fighting against the cruelty of your grandfather... I-I swear on their lives Kylo that if you so much as _mention him_ to me again I’ll burn this house to the ground.”

“I would never do something to hurt you,” Kylo whispered, pressing an open mouthed kiss to Maeve’s palm.

“You don’t get it, do you?” Maeve muttered, her breath catching in her throat, but she didn’t take her hand from Kylo, letting him brush his lips across her wrist. “The fact that you left hurt me. I went through hell without you here--I lost… You forget that I have nothing here besides what Parliament grants me. I'm as trapped as you...” her voice drifted off-- unwilling to tell Kylo what his disappearing act had really cost them.

Silence filled the room, and it only seemed to weigh Maeve down even more.

“You are the only good thing in my life, Maeve.”

A shiver passed down Maeve’s spine, spreading warmth to parts of her body that hadn’t felt heat in months. Maeve closed her eyes, and focused on Kylo’s caress. Her body relaxing into his touch. The rage dissipating with each kiss he pressed against her skin. A shuddering breath broke past her lips. Maybe she could do this. She could be what he needed, but she’d never forget.

“Tell me you’re sorry,” she demanded.

Kylo swallowed the spit that’d collected in the back of his throat. “I’m sorry.”

When she didn’t say anything or move, he repeated the phrase, punctuating each word with an open mouthed kiss against her skin. “I’m. Sorry.”

“One more time,” she muttered.

“I’m sorry.”

Kylo pulled at the edge of her dress, folding it backwards, and Maeve’s eyes shot open. She stood from the chair and inadvertently shoved Kylo to the ground.

“It-it’s almost half past five now, if I don’t get into the bath we’ll never leave on time,” she bleated.

Kylo pushed himself to his knees and placed his hands back on Brighid’s thighs, staring up at her from his prone position. “Stay.”

“The bath--”

“Stay… _I’ve missed you_.”

Maeve’s throat bobbed as she took in Kylo’s words. Her abdomen inflamed with the promises she saw in his burning gaze.

“Bath,” she whispered.

“ _Maeve_ ,” he groaned, pulling her further towards him so his nose could brush against her clothed pelvis.

Maeve’s knees shook and she had to put her hands on Kylo’s head to keep steady. Her fingers weaved through his silky black hair, and pulled slightly at the roots. It’d been so long since she’d ached for him like this. All the passion she’d pent up for the past eight months tickling at the apex of her thighs.

“Kylo,” she muttered. When he looked up at her, with desire swimming in his eyes like stars in the night sky, she groaned. The noise ripped from her throat.

The sound made Kylo’s lips quirk into a feral smirk. He had her. Maeve felt him nip at the skin right above her left knee and her legs wobbled. She pulled rather harshly at his hair and he nipped her again, harder, and she very nearly slapped him.

A sudden knock at the door gave Maeve the out she needed.

“For _Fuck’s_ sake,” Kylo hissed.

Kylo turned to the door and Maeve sprinted towards the bathroom. She slammed the door shut behind her, and heaved against it as she listened for the voices that spoke in the other room. As soon as she figured out it was Phasma, from the deep, feminine tone, Maeve peeled herself from the door and hurriedly turned on the faucet for the bath. Her hands trembling as she did, making it nearly impossible for her to get out of her dress. The round buttons slipping through her fingers.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” she hissed.

How did he always do this to her? Leave her clumsy and shaken. Just a single touch and she melted. It wasn’t fair. She’d never felt like this with any other suitors back on Maridun. _Her Island_. For the past seven months she debated bringing the girls to her father’s house and letting Kylo come find them, but it wouldn’t have been fair to Leia nor the people who now knew Maeve as Duchess.

Maeve ached for her rolling green hills, and the stone house of her family. Here, in the capital of Alderaan, Naboo, she never really felt at home. Leia’s father, Anakin Skywalker-- Maeve’s family knew him as the tyrant Darth Vader-- rose to power through his marriage to the Alderaanian Princess Padme Amidala. After her untimely death, Vader went mad. Anakin’s mentor, Palpatine, from his days in the Alderaanian army, corrupted Vader’s sadness-- turning it into an anger and hatred that they directed into enslaving the rest of the planet.

Maeve’s country was one of the first to fall. The Island of Maridun was only two hours away from Alderaan by boat, and was home to some of the most formidable fighters on the planet. They were no match for The Empire. They swept through the emerald countryside with fire and vengeance taking hold of every piece of land Vader set his mask-covered gaze on.

Maeve’s family’s legacy dated back to the first settlers of Maridun. The house her father lived in was built 300 years before Maeve’s birth. The great stone structure surrounded on all sides by green fields, a large bog full of peat, and pastures where the wild horses of Maridun roamed. On the other side of the forest that lined their property was a sacred area of standing stones where her mother prayed to the old Gods.

Her mother raised racing horses and her father was a Captain in the Maridun Republic Army-- a Captain who fought in the resistance against Darth Vader, and became an ally to both Queen Leia and Prince Luke. Before reclaiming her throne, Leia went to Maridun and fought against Vader, with Maeve’s father’s help. While Luke is the one who eventual struck down Vader, Leia was named Queen. She gave Maridun back to the people, keeping her promise of freeing the colonies Vader collected. After a year in power Leia married Han Solo, pirate captain of the deep seas, and gave birth to her first, and only child: Ben.

Maeve was born to her parents, Don and Anne, a year later on Maridun; the youngest of her family, and the only girl. She grew up the same as her five brothers, trained to fight against the brutality of the world, and with her mother’s help received the best education they could afford. As a child she spent her free days in the pastures, tending to the sheep, and building forts with the dry bricks of peat.

Leia visited Maridun at least once a year, bringing along what seemed like a circus to Maeve’s family home. Maeve’s father never liked visiting Alderaan. A bad taste left in his mouth from the vile Vader sent to Maridun to claim the country and beat any of its traditions out of it. Even the old language was nearly lost, as anyone who spoke it during the 25 years of war was punished with public lashings, and in the most extreme occasions: execution. But, even with all the hatred Maeve’s father held in his heart, he was always the first to greet Leia when she arrived.

It wasn’t until Maeve was 17 and Kylo was 18 that Kylo began courting Maeve; an arrangement she didn’t agree to until she was 20. They were married first on Maridun, in the way Maeve wanted: barefoot, in the backyard of her family’s house while it rained. Then again in a royal affair on Alderaan. The capital city, Naboo, decorated in both the red and green of Alderaan and the orange and white of Maridun.

The twins were born two years later. Maeve had to learn how to handle these changes (motherhood, royalty, etc.) with grace and decorum, whilst also battling with her need to return home, as living in the same palace as the man who’d enslaved her country for the purposes of colonizing the world hurt her very being.

“Maeve?” Kylo called out, his voice muffled by the closed door.

Maeve sunk further into the bath. The warm waters covering everything but her round face. “What?”

The door opened, just a smidge, and Kylo’s head popped through. “Can I come in?”

“Are you going to behave yourself?”

A smirk broke the strict line of Kylo’s lips. “Do you want me to?”

“Kylo--”

Kylo’s smirk fell. “I’ll behave. I promise.”

Maeve sunk even further into the vanilla scented water. Her nose resting on top of the white bubbles. “Your track record with keeping promises isn’t very good.”

“I’ll sit in the chair and won’t move… not unless you want me to.”

Maeve blinked. “I won’t.”

Kylo took a single step into the room, his right leg still on the other side of the door. “I’ll behave.”

“Come in… and put my towel on the floor next to the bath, will you.”

Kylo frowned. “You’re no fun.”

“And you’re an asshole.”

Kylo picked up the small stool that was in their bathroom-- mainly for Maeve to reach the tall shelves of the linen closet-- and sat it down near the edge of the tub. He put the towel on his lap; which made Maeve huff into the bubbles. Her hair was still dry, as she hadn’t reached that part of her bath yet, and she couldn’t quite convince herself to dunk. Not with Kylo staring at her like _that_. His dark eyes watching every shift she made in the water.

“I-I can’t wash with you… you staring at me.” Maeve crossed her arms across her chest, hiding any part of her skin from his gaze. Her body had changed in the time while he was gone. Muscle turned to fat, and new scars adorned the crest of her belly.

“We used to share baths.”

“I know,” Maeve pouted.

“So,” Kylo motioned towards the tub, leaning back in his chair, spreading his long legs further apart-- as if he was appraising her. “Carry on.”

“ _Kylo_.”

“ _Maeve_.”

Maeve made a flurry of sound with her mouth against the water. A few bubbles blew out of the tub and onto Kylo’s arm. “I can’t bathe with you in here.” She’d grown used to being alone.

“ _Maeve_.”

“ _Kylo_ ,” she growled.

“We’ve been married for five years. You know how much I adore _every inch_ of you. Why so shy now?”

“Be-because you’ve been gone for what feels like forever and, and everything feels like it’s changed!”

Kylo leaned his head against the side of the tub, so he could stare his wife in the eyes. Her blue eyes that wanted to look everywhere but at him. “I’m sorry I left you.”

“Sorry can’t change what you did.”

“Maeve...I love you.”

A wave of water hit Kylo in the face. He sputtered and choked on the soap that hit him in the mouth as Maeve snatched the towel from his lap and wrapped it around her dripping body before he could open his eyes again. She had to basically grapple down the sides of the tub to get out, but when she did, Maeve turned to Kylo with her hands on her hips, and her towel wrapped delicately about her.

“Leaving at half past 6?”

“Mae--”

Maeve stomped her foot and repeated the question, her tone sharp as the edge of one of her many knives. “Leaving at half past 6?”

“Yes,” Kylo grumbled.

“Don’t wear blue,” she said, and stomped out of the bathroom.

Kylo watched her as she left. He could just see the outline of her bottom through the white, fluffy towel as she waddled back to her room. It swayed from left to right and then it was gone, leaving him cold and alone in their bathroom. The cut on his hand already clotted, but he dipped it into the receding water anyway. After five minutes, Kylo left, shaking off his drenched suit as he did.

Thirty minutes later Maeve walked out of her room wearing a short, dark blue dress that was tight around her chest, but flailed out near her waist, with a reasonable pair of black heels dangling from her fingers. She glanced at Kylo’s door, noticed it was closed and sat down on one of the larger, mint green chairs in their shared living space; taking care not to step on any of the girl’s toys that were still in the room. She kept one eye on the door as she slid the heels on to her hosed feet, caressing the velvet of the shoe with her fingertips as she hooked the latch and tightened the strap across the instep.

The living room was decorated to her tastes. A Beige couch, two mint green armchairs, with two dark brown, wooden tables beside each armchair, as well as a single coffee table in the middle of it all. A single vase full of golden sunflowers-- about to wilt-- sat on the coffee table. This is where she spent most of her time, embroidering, and playing with the girls. Their toys left behind as some days she couldn’t be bothered to leave this room; couldn't muster up the strength to get up and leave.

Kylo’s door opened and Maeve bit her tongue to keep from gaping at her husband. She’d forgotten what he did to her. Her heartbeat jolted at the sight of him in his formal attire; bow tie undone at the top, and his long hair smoothed back. He’d always been rather unkempt, but that’s what initially attracted him to her.

“You look beautiful, Maeve,” Kylo commented. He sat down in the chair across from her. His gaze trained on her hands as she latched the second shoe.

“Thank you...so do you,” she replied.

“I look beautiful?”

“ _Oh_ ,” Maeve rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Kylo leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “Do I, wife?”

“You’re rather playful tonight.”

“I always want to play with you,” Kylo purred.

Maeve pushed out of the chair, and tapped her heels together. Kylo stood as she did, pressing down the sides of his tuxedo. He moved to put the bowtie together, but before he could Maeve was there. Her fingers expertly crossing the silk ends and creating an evenly twisted bow. She patted his chest once when she was done and took a single step back, so she didn’t have to crane her neck so far back to look up at him; as Kylo was at least a foot taller than her, even when she wore heels.

“Do I pass?” Kylo asked.

“Mhhmm. Dashing as always. The perfect image of decorum and grace--”

Kylo held out his arm, and nudged his wife. “Shall we?”

Maeve hesitated. She stared at his offered arm, then back up to Kylo’s face. The dark beauty marks on his face as inviting as ever, but there was still something so different about him; something that made her uneasy.

“Are you alright?”

Kylo crouched down to Maeve’s eye level. He brought one gloved hand up to her face and delicately, as if she might bite, traced the edge of her cheek. Maeve closed her eyes, and counted to ten-- hoping it would keep her from crying-- but a single tear welled in her right eye and she scrambled backwards, throwing her hands over her face.

“I’m th-orry,” she muttered.

“ _Maeve_.”

Maeve held her left hand up. “Please… I-I just need a moment.” To think. To feel. To remember that this was real.

Kylo didn’t let her have that moment. He scooped his wife off the ground and carried her to the couch, her shoulders shaking as he settled them against the plush furniture. The fact that she didn’t bite him for picking her up was both a good and bad sign.

“Mae… _Mae_ I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m… mess,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by the hand that still covered her face.

“Maeve.”

Maeve let her hands drop. Her eyes ringed in red, though only a few tears had escaped their ducts. “I’m a mess,” she repeated.

“Not a mess,” Kylo said as he took her shaking hands into his own. “Sometimes overly emotional, and tipping towards manic-- Perhaps you are a mess.”

Maeve laughed, and snuggled further into Kylo’s arms. Her neatly curled hair stuck in his armpits. The warmth from his body wrapping around her and securing Maeve in waves of comfort and safety.

“Will you ever forgive me?” Kylo asked.

“I don’t know,” Maeve replied. She tapped her pointer finger against her bottom lip. “I’m not sure how to.”

“Oh--”

“It’s-It’s just been a very _long day_ , Kylo.”

Kylo pulled Maeve even closer, resting his chin upon the crest of her head. “We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to.”

“No… we should go. Leia had Wexley contact the press, if we’re not there even more rumors will spread.”

“Rumors like the dissolvement of our marriage?”

“Yes.”

Kylo grumbled and wiped at the tears that pooled in the area beneath Meave’s eyes. “I don’t want our marriage to dissolve.”

“Me neither,” Maeve admitted. “But, I feel very… vulnerable. I don’t trust you to not leave and- and I can’t do this,” Meave gestured to the room. “I can’t do this without you. I’m just not good enough at the talking, and the caring.”

“Maeve--”

“No, seriously, Kylo. I wasn’t bred for this. Everything here is so different from what I’m used to-- I grew up in the country… Do you know what they’ve started to call me in the papers since you left?”

Kylo sat up straighter, his eyes narrowing. “What do they call you?”

“The _Ice-Queen_ from Meridun.”

“That’s not very original.”

Maeve hit him on the chest, playfully. “Not the point. I’m an outsider here, and I always will be-- no matter how much your mother and father adore me. I’ll always be the traitor to my people, and a no-one to yours.”

“Who cares what they think. They’re all just a bunch of liars and thieves,” Kylo growled.

“Kylo, it does matter. They’re _your_ people. You’re their Prince.” She added. “And not all of them are bad.”

“Oh, Fuck them. _You’re_ my people. You and the girls, you’re all I need.”

Maeve looked up at Kylo. “Not Hux?”

“Not Hux.”

“I’ll never feel bad about doing what’s right for me and the girls. I need you to know that.”

“Your determination is one of your most endearing qualities.”

Maeve pinched his bicep, but frowned when she was met with pure muscle. “I mean it, Kylo. I’ll leave you if you wrong me.”

“ _There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate me._ ” Kylo quoted.

“You still picture me as Elizabeth Bennett? I thought we were passed that Mr.Darcy nonsense.”

“Phasma won't let me forget it.”

Maeve smiled and cupped his cheek with her left hand. Her heart warmed as he leaned into her touch.

“You shouldn't have let her catch you reading it.”

Kylo shrugged. “It's your favorite.”

“How do we work so well? The brooding prince who married a girl who had more sheep than friends. Why do we work?”

“We’re both runners, Maeve, and I’d rather we run together.”

“What does that mean?” she asked.

Kylo sat up on the couch, maneuvering Maeve to where she straddled his lap. “If I abdicate--”

Maeve didn't hear the rest over the blood rushing to her ears. Abdication? What happened in those mountains? What did Hux say? He’d never talked like this before. What would happen to them-- what would happen to Leia?

“You’ll destroy your mother!” Maeve bleated.

Kylo tensed beneath her. His breath choppy as his chest fluttered. A crazed look in his normally somber eyes.

“Kylo, _you can’t_ \--”

“I NEVER ASKED FOR THIS!”

Maeve scooted backwards. She knew better than to be this close to him when his temper erupted like this. He’d never hurt her, but instincts were instincts. “Kylo…”

“I-I-I-I...sorry.” Kylo sputtered, and his hands flew into his hair, pulling at his roots, trying to yank the strands out of his skull.

Maeve weaved her hands into his and soothed his palms until he eventually let go. She took his head and placed it against her breast so he could hear the subtle rhythm of her heartbeat. Just like she used to do with the twins when they couldn’t stop crying during their teething stage.

“Shhh, It’s alright. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

“I didn’t mean to yell.”

“I know, darling. I know,” she soothed.

She was normally the screamer, her anger at a constant simmer, while Kylo’s rage tended to be more of an explosion. He always left when he got to this point, went driving or riding-- whatever he could do to feel the wind on his tear-strained face. Maeve pulled him tighter against her, refusing to let him go. Not now.

“Do you hate me?”

Maeve pulled Kylo’s head back so she could stare into his eyes. She needed him to know she wasn’t lying. “Sometimes, but never enough to leave.”

Kylo deflated, his shoulders collapsing forward. “I left.”

“You did. You ran from your problems like the selfish prick you are.”

“You should-- hate me,” he choked.

“I should, and if I was a smarter woman I would have turned you away _years ago,_ every time you came to Maridun-- with that swagger and charm-- and tried to worm your way into my life, but I didn’t. You caught me, Kylo, and I’m not sure I can ever get away. I’m not sure I’d ever want to. To see you in the hands of another? _Hah_ \-- I’m selfish too.”

Kylo pulled Maeve flat against his chest. Her bound breasts squished against the soft silk of his shirt. They sat like that for what seemed like years. He’d forgotten how good it felt to just hold her. How soft she felt in his arms. The rounded edges of her tummy, and the sharp points of her knees. She was perfect, in all her imperfection.

Maeve shifted so she could trace her fingers along the scruffed edges of Kylo’s face. He’d let his facial hair grow out in the past eight months and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it yet. The patch along his chin was the darkest, and she couldn’t help but pull on it. “I’m scared, and you know how much I hate being scared. It’s not in my blood to cower.”

“I know,” Kylo grumbled.

“It’s not going to be easy: change.”

“I know.”

“You’ll have to try, and we’ll probably fight.”

“ _I know_.”

“Alright... then let’s go out. We can’t fix everything in one day. So, let’s have a bit of fun, yah?”

Kylo smirked. Laughter bouncing in his eyes. “Just a bit?”

“Depends on how you behave.”

“Oh, _I always behave_ . It’s you we have to look out for. The _wild lass_ from across the sea.”

Maeve punched Kylo in the arm. “Oh, shut it.”

“Make me,” he purred in return.

“I could--”

“I dare you.”

Maeve inched closer. Kylo’s scent-- mint and candlewood-- wafted towards her. Her lips lined up perfectly with his. All she had to do was lean in and they’d kiss.

“No.”

Maeve hopped off Kylo’s lap. The wide skirt of her blue dress nearly slapped him in the face, his jaw slackened as Kylo watched his impish wife giggle and run out of their rooms. It only took him a few seconds to recover, but by the time he did, Maeve had already reached the tall white doors and thrown them open.

Kylo followed, and curled his arm around Maeve’s waist. His left hand resting terribly close to the curve of her bum. He leaned down, and whispered in her ear, “I’ll get you for that, _you tease_ ,” before sweeping her out of the doorway and down the stairs.

Leia was coming up the stair as they were going down. The Queens eyes brightened as she took in the young couple. Maeve’s cheeks were red again, and Leia had a feeling it was due to her son, who held on to Maeve so tight Leia feared they might meld together.

“Are you two on your way out?”

“Yes, to the club on Kenobi,” Maeve answered, her eyes moving from Leia up to Kylo’s face. Her own smile brightening as she saw the way Kylo stared down at her.

“I hear the food is delicious-- though I’d never know. If I ever went there the public would lose their minds.”

Kylo brushed his lips across the top of Maeve’s head. “The cost of public service.”

“In the end It’s always worth it. Always.”

“Goodnight, Mother.”

Leia curled her palm against Kylo’s cheek as she passed them. “Goodnight, son.”

Phasma lounged against the sleek, black car as Kylo and Maeve exited the Palace. She wore a light grey three piece suit, with her hair greased back, resembling the head of gang more than a royal guard.

Maeve slid into the backseat as Kylo took the wheel. He never liked when someone else drove. Phasma sat next to him, taking one of her guns out of the glove box and hiding it in the inner pocket of her suit jacket. Neither of them felt comfortable being out of control.

“You look _wonderful_ as always, Phasma,” Maeve admired. “Is that a new suit?”

“I had to threaten the tailors to make it for me. The material cost a fortune-- came all the way from Takodana.”

“Takodana, _really_? Well, it was worth it. You wear it better than any man I’ve ever met.”

Kylo turned around to stare at his wife, a pout contorting his lips. “Even me?”

“Even you, _husband_. Grey isn’t your colour.”

“Liar,” Kylo grumbled.

They pulled up to the club amidst a flurry of action. A squadron of paparazzi huddled outside the club like a pack of rabid dogs. Maeve crawled out of the car, one hand cupped over her eyes, shielding her from the bright bulb flashes. Kylo took her other hand and pulled her tight against him as Phasma pushed their way into the club.

The men threw the cameras into Meave and Kylo’s faces, screaming and waving wildly to get the couple’s attention. A few shouting headlines they hoped one of the two would react to.

“Kylo! Kylo! Picture over here!”

“Maeve, did Kylo have an affair? Is that why he’s been gone so long?”

“MAEVE!”

“Look here, Ice-Queen! Afraid of melting under the heat? Go back to Maridump.” That got a laugh out for the rest of the ‘reporters,’ and made bile rush up Maeve’s esophagus.

Maeve held her breath until the club’s doors were firmly shut behind them. She let herself lean into Kylo. Her hand still firmly squashed in his own grasp. That never got easier. The cameras, the shouting. It all seemed so pointless. Who wanted to see her being ushered in and out of buildings? Who got pleasure out of that?

Kylo bent sidewise to put his lips near Maeve’s ears. “Alright?”

“Just winded.”

“Have they gotten worse?”

“As cameras get better, they get craftier, and we suffer.” She admitted.

Phasma disappeared into the club to get them a table. She would start with hovering near a semi-empty table until the occupants got antsy enough and left. Either that or she would sit down at an empty chair and the rest of the table would rush away. Something about Phasma-- probably the way her lips curled into a grimace that looked like a tiger before it ate its prey-- made most people terribly afraid.

Kylo tried to talk again but as soon as he opened his mouth the band at the front of the club started playing and all hopes of conversation went out the window. Maeve yanked on their clasped hands, and nodded towards the dance floor. Kylo took the hint and ushered her forward. The group of couples already dancing and swinging stopped as they noticed who had joined them on the dancefloor. One woman dropped into a full cursty.

Maeve dug her fingernails into Kylo’s arm. He pulled her even closer, if possible, and smiled at the crowd who stared at them as if they were a new amusement at the world exhibit. The type of smile that Maeve wished she could fake whenever they were in crowds like this. It was easy to do it in a car, where she could turn away or hide in the shadows, but here everything she did was scrutinized and whispered about.

The lead singer hopped off the stage, her dark skin sparkling in the colorful lights of the club, and shifted her hips as she stepped into the center of the dance floor. She winked at Kylo and Maeve. Her amber lips caressing the microphone as she finished the sultry song.

“The royals are in the house, tonight! It’s been awhile, and they look like they could use a night on the town-- so, let’s give ‘em a show, huh?”

She spun back towards the band, the beads on her skin tight dress swinging outwards like a tidal wave. Her high heeled left foot touched the stage and her band jumped into another jig. The club knew better than to let any of the journalists into the club, and so with the invitation of the singer, Maeve’s anxiety lifted.

Maeve couldn’t dance, she was always too focused on keeping up with the rhythm to learn how to swing her hips in the right way. Kylo, on the other hand, had been trained for this. He hooked his arm around Maeve’s waist and they twirled in with the other couples. To Maeve it felt like flying. She clung to Kylo and let him lead, throwing her head back, her hair whipping across her face. It’s the closest she felt to being free in the city.

At the end of the fifth song, Phasma met them at the edge of the crowd with two glasses in her hands. She handed the martini to Kylo and the short glass of Whiskey to Maeve. Maeve lifted the glass to her nose and smiled. She hadn’t had a drink in months.

Maeve was too busy sniffing the Whiskey to notice how stiff Kylo became next to her, it’s tones of maple syrup and peat reminding her of home. They stopped at the table Phasma got for them and Maeve’s fingers nearly let go of the Whiskey. At the last second she composed herself, and brought the glass to her chest, cradling it with both hands as she tried to not glare at the man sat at the table in front of her.

“Your Royal Highnesses, what a pleasure,” Hux drawled.

Armitage Hux sat at the table as if he owned the whole club. The bright orange shade of his perfectly sculpted hair twinkling in the low lights of the club. A similar glass of brown alcohol hanging delicately from his fingertips, and a grimace curving his pink lips that made Maeve want to retch. Hux, no matter how attractive his features, always looked as if he’d accidentally ate burnt garlic.

“ _Hux_ ,” Kylo grunted. “It’s customary for commoners to stand when addressing royalty.”

Hux pushed himself from the table and bowed, lower than necessary, in front of Maeve and Kylo. “My apologies.”

Happy with his show, Kylo pulled out Maeve’s chair, before sliding into the one to the right of Hux. Phasma sat between Maeve and Hux. Maeve was glad, as it gave her less of an opportunity to strangle Hux from her seat.

“ _Don’t let him get to you_ ,” Maeve hissed into Kylo’s ear.

She placed a kiss to the spot of skin behind his ear, then sat down. Her glass of whiskey empty by the time she set it down on the table. The glass tittering from edge to edge as she righted her posture and folded her left leg over her right. Hux could surprise her once, but as soon as she sat it was her game they were playing, not his.

“Good to see you, Hux. It’s been far too long,” Maeve drawled. Her accent sharper than normal. “I'm surprised you've slithered your way down South. I thought the capital wasn't your scene.”

“Yes, things change.”

“They do don’t they. Are you well? How’s the family?”

“They’re fine,” Hux replied. Bored.

“Grand.”

Maeve raised her empty glass towards Phasma, who took it and ran off for a refill.

Kylo still didn’t speak. His fingers tapping out a rhythm that Maeve didn’t know on the white table cloth. She looked to his fingers, then back to Hux. That smug smile still on his too-pale face. She wanted to reach across the table and smack it from his lips. She wondered if he’d scream, and hoped he’d cry.

Phasma came back with the whiskey. She set it down in front of Maeve, who took the glass and tipped it back. The liquid running down her throat like a bullet train on its way to Naboo. Normally she liked to savor her drinks, let it sink into her bloodstream, but there was no time for that tonight. She grimaced as she set the glass back down, then leaned across the table with a smile twisting her lips. To everyone else at the table it looked more like a snarl.

“So, Hux, what are you really doing here? Decided to try out city life?”

Hux tweaked his tie and set down his now empty glass. “I was invited.”

“By whom?”

“Parliament.”

Maeve leaned farther forward. Her knee bumping Kylos. “Really?”

“The Prime Minister himself asked me to come down for a visit.”

“To check out the jail cells, or?”

“ _Hah_ ,” Hux choked out a laugh. “I didn’t remember you being quite so much fun, Maeve.”

“ _Ma’am_. We’re not friends, Hux. You call me Ma’am.”

Hux glowered. His adam's apple bouncing as he fought down a curse. “Apologies, Ma’am.”

“Apology accepted. Thank you.”

Maeve looked over at Kylo and her heart jumped to her throat. His jaw ticked with each second that passed. His left knee bouncing underneath the white table cloth. They needed to leave.

“Hux, I think it’s time you left.”

“I have every right to be here,” Hux spat. That calm facade he wore cracking. “You can’t order me around. Just because you managed to bed--”

Kylo shoved forward, the table scraping across the floor and slammed into Hux’s stomach. The two men jumped to their feet. Maeve moving right after them. She glanced around the club, but no one seemed to notice them. Nearly everyone was on the dance floor.

“Phasma...Hux will need a ride home. Help him find one,” Kylo growled. His hands bunched into strained fists on either side of his hips.

“Right away, Sir.” Phasma replied as she put her hand on Hux’s shoulder and moved him around the askew table.

Once Hux was close enough, Kylo reached out and grabbed his shoulder, as if he was giving his old friend a hug. Though Maeve saw the way Hux flinched as Kylo dug his hand into the muscle of Hux’s shoulder. “You should know better than to antagonize my wife, _Hux_. You forget your place. Does your Uncle know you’re here? I’m not sure he’d appreciate knowing how you spend your free time.”

The red marks that bloomed on Hux’s cheeks put Maeve’s to shame. It was as if two tomatoes had been squashed into his porcelain skin. He stumbled backwards as Kylo let go of him, making it look as if he was too drunk to walk. Phasma hooked onto Hux’s arm a second later, maneuvering him through the crowd and towards the back entrance-- away from the cameras.

Maeve sat back down as Kylo continued to stand and brood, far after Hux and Phasma exited the club.

“I should have thrown him out of the second he appeared,” Kylo grumbled, slouching back into his chair.

“I can handle myself, Kylo.”

“Shouldn’t have to. I should be better-- stronger. I’m not--”

“You’re just fine the way you are. It’s best if only one of us gets in fights at clubs, yah?”

Kylo downed his martini. “Shouldn’t have to fight.”

“I can, and I will.” Maeve asserted.

“Can we just… forget this. Forget him.”

“Yes… for now.”

Kylo shoved his hand through his hair, causing some of it to fall into his face. “You’re too good for me.”

“That’s true.” She noticed the way Kylo was staring at her, with the strangest gleam in his dark eyes. “What?”

Kylo leaned back in the chair, his arms crossed over his chest, showing off the muscles of his upper arms. “You’ve become quite graceful in your role. It’s almost as if my mother has shaken all of the barefoot-running-through-the-grass tendencies out of you.”

“No, I’d say there’s still a bit of that in me. I just don’t let people bully me-- _especially_ not people like Armitage Hux. He doesn’t care about anyone Kylo. He’s in this for himself.”

“He wasn’t always this bad. Quite tolerable in boarding school.”

“Yes, well. We all change, don’t we?”

“That we do.”

Maeve shifted in her seat and looked out at the crowd, then back to Kylo. “Want another dance?”

“Not really.”

“Drink?”

Kylo shook his head. His hair re-curling in the heat of the club, against the wishes of the gel he’d so painstakingly spread through it. Maeve’s hand twitched as she imagined running her fingers through it, and tugging gently at the roots, or not-so-gently.

“Well... then shall we go?”

“No. I’d like to pretend to be normal for just a bit longer.”

“Alright.”

Maeve got up from the table to get herself a glass of water. The man at the bar gave her two glasses, and thanked her profusely for coming in. He tried to give Maeve a free bottle of champagne, but her bashful rejections finally worked and he sent her off back to her table. Kylo was staring at her again when she returned. The most unusual of his smiles gracing his face. One he usually reserved for when they were alone.

“What?” She asked.

“I forgot how much you mean to me.”

Maeve’s face heated as if she’d just been caught doing something she wasn’t supposed to-- like drink out of the special china reserved for foreign dignitaries. “Oh, shut up.”

“No, really, Maeve. I forgot, and I think that’s why I left. _I forgot_.”

Maeve leaned over the table and pulled Kylo’s left hand forward, her fingers intertwining with his. “You’re such a strange one, yah know?”

“Not as strange as you.”

“Such a charmer.”

Kylo’s lips peeled back to reveal a feral smile. “I changed my mind. We should go home.”

“Okay. Uh-- Let’s go home.”

Kylo nearly dragged Maeve out of the club. His hand resting possessively on her waist. Phasma didn’t notice them leave. A short brunette in a red dress had stolen her attention on the dance floor. Maeve thought they made a handsome couple.

The car ride home was the fastest car ride of Maeve’s life. Kylo didn’t even bother to take the keys out of the ignition when they pulled up to the side entrance. He knew someone else would take care of it. Maeve kept a hand over her mouth as they darted up the stairs to keep the giggles from waking the girls. Kylo’s hands on her ass, pushing her up each step.

He swung open the door to their rooms and nearly threw her inside. His eyes, normally dark brown, were black when he turned from closing the door. He made a show of twisting the lock as Maeve unlatched her shoes and placed them beside the inside of the door. She’d just finished bending down, when Kylo’s hands latched onto her hips and spun her around, shoving her against the wall. His right knee nestled between her thighs, riding up against her sex. She ground against it just to see him smile.

“Hi,” Maeve breathed.

Kylo nudged his nose against hers. “Hi.”

When he finally kissed her, Maeve couldn’t help but close her eyes. It was just like old times. His lips tasted the exact same, though all she could really smell was the whiskey from the club. Kylo’s hands on her body, hers in his hair, pulling him as close as possible. If she could have broken his back she would have, just to get closer to him.

“W-why do you have to be so _fucking_ tall?” she complained as soon as Kylo let her take a breath.

Kylo fell to his knees before Maeve. His fingers digging into the back of her thighs. Head bowed as if he was deep in prayer. The closest he came to begging. “Can I touch you?”

“Please.”

“Yes?”

“ _Yes_.”

It was like the first time again. The anxiety of not doing everything right. The fear of not being good enough. Maeve thought she would pass out just from the feeling. In eight months she forgot what this felt like. What Kylo felt like. The silk sheets at her back bunching in the force of Kylo’s thrusts. They’d moved to the bed after Kylo’s tender exploration of Maeve against the wall. Her back still tingled from the way her dress chaffed her skin.

“I-I don’t think I’m as flexible as you remember,” Maeve huffed.

Kylo stopped, his right hand still wrapped around the heel of her left leg, holding it as high in the air as possible. His hips settled comfortably at her core. “Hurt?”

“Not sure, I can’t feel it anymore.”

Kylo collapsed on top of Maeve. His chest shuddering as he chuckled. Maeve couldn’t help it and she started laughing too. With one arm, Kylo rolled them over so Maeve was on top. Her dress stilled bunched around her hips, and her hosiery dangling off her right leg. Kylo wasn't much better. He’d only managed to get his pants and jacket off before he’d picked Maeve up and settled into her.

She’d been more than ready by the time they got back to their rooms. Kylo’s teasing on the car ride, mixed with the Whiskey she’d drank had her on the edge of delirious, but just sober enough to willingly consent.

“I missed you,” Kylo grunted.

“I can tell.”

“Different position?”

Maeve pushed herself up onto her knees. “Where do you want me?”

“Anytime.” Kylo kissed Maeve’s cheek, “Anywhere,” and pressed another kiss at the corner of her lips. The knot in Maeve’s gut tightened, and she had to dig her nails into the skin of her thighs to keep from rubbing them together.

“ _Kylo_ ,” Maeve whined.

Her hips settled against his and Kylo nearly yelped. His hands shot to her waist and Maeve pulled her dress up even further so she could watch herself as she sunk down onto him. Kylo’s hips jutted forward, and she couldn’t help but smile. He was always so responsive when she was on top.

“Slow,” he pleaded.

Maeve rose back onto her knees and slowly dropped back down, tilting her hips as she did. The edge of Kylo rubbing at her core. “G-good?”

“ _Good_.”

Maeve would never cum like this, but she loved being able to look down and see Kylo’s reactions. Most of the time his eyes were scrunched together, and his mouth twitched with every stroke. It never lasted too long, and she didn’t mind. Halfway through and it felt like her thighs, thick and riddled with stretch marks, would snap off.

“S-missed _you_ ,” Kylo slurred.

His arms rushed forward and smashed Maeve to his chest. Not a second later his hips bucked up into hers and Kylo had to bury his face into Maeve’s hair to hide his groans. Maeve soothed him down, running her fingers down his muscular back, and moved so Kylo cloud slide out of her. She settled down beside Kylo on his bed, and ran her fingers through his hair. She’d nearly forgotten how beautiful Kylo was-- is. He deserved the world, and she’d give it to him.

“Are you an angel?”

Maeve opened her eyes to find Kylo hovering over her. His fingers tapping down her sides.

“W-what?” She asked.

“I said: Are you angel?”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I? Because it feels like _heaven_ between your thighs.” Kylo dipped his hips, rutting them against hers.

Maeve scoffed. “Again, ridiculous.”

“Mmmm, I just want to burrow myself--”

“Okay. _That’s_ gross.”

Kylo nuzzled into Maeve’s hair, hiding his laughter, and kissed the side of her neck. “And you love it.”

“So, you gonna get me off? Or are you gonna be like all those other good-for-nothing husbands who can’t please their wives?”

Kylo moved his head back to its previous position, so he could look Maeve in her fiery eyes. His lips curled into his widest smile, the skin around his eyes pulling into thin lines. “My feisty little wife.”

“Oh shut up, and put that mouth of yours to better use.”

Kylo pulled back and Maeve had to bite down on her bottom lip to keep from smiling. She missed this: The teasing, and the fucking. But most of all, she’d missed him, and _damn_ did it feel good to have him home.

**Author's Note:**

> Also this was my first time writing smut, so let me know how I did? I felt it fit with the story, so I wrote it. Anyway, thanks for reading!


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